2. IN HER WORDS:
EXPOSING OBSTACLES TO THE
EFFECTIVE IMPLEMENTATION OF
RIGHTS AND PROTECTION
POLICIES FOR HUMAN
TRAFFICKING SURVIVORS IN
SPAIN
Jennifer K. Pro
Advocate and Researcher, Support Services Specialist
Proyecto ESPERANZA
jenpro@gmail.com
Acknowledgments: I would like to give special recognition to Proyecto
ESPERANZA and to the three extraordinary women who have shared their
stories with us. Without their courage and support, this project would not be
possible.
1
3. TABLE OF CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION: The trafficking context and legal framework in Spain .............. 3
HOPE’S STORY: Cooperated with authorities but excluded from protection ........ 5
REFLECTIONS: Protection determined by victim’s usefulness .......................... 7
MARIA’S STORY: “They make you relive it each day” ................................... 8
REFLECTIONS: Re-victimised by the authorities .......................................... 9
BLESSING’S STORY: Assisting authorities but still not feeling safe .................. 10
REFLECTIONS: Still waiting for her rights ................................................. 11
CONCLUSION: A call for a more diligent shift to a human rights approach with
more effective access to immigration relief and other rights ........................ 12
2
4. INTRODUCTION: The trafficking context
and legal framework in Spain
Although there have been undeniable advances in the anti-trafficking legislation in
Spain, listening to the voices of human trafficking survivors exposes the alarming
difficulties in the effective implementation of protection measures provided by the
Spanish state. Three women whose names have been changed for their protection,
will share their accounts. Although each women’s story is unique, they have all had
similar experiences with Spain’s legal protection system in that: they all agreed to
cooperate with the authorities by initiating conduct with the police (none of the
women were discovered through ‘raids’ or detentions for their ‘irregular’ status), as
well as by providing evidence, pressing charges, and testifying (with the exception of
one woman who did not testify because her case was not taken to court). Yet, to
some extent, these women were still excluded from protection mechanisms for
victims of trafficking, including immigration relief in a timely manner, re-integration
and safety. This led to the women feeling unsafe (both in Spain and in their countries
of origin) and unable to access employment and reintegration opportunities in Spain.
Like those who will share their voice here, individuals all over Spain are forced,
coerced or lured into illegal or legal immigration with promises of legitimate work or
study opportunities. Spain is a destination country for migrants from Latin America,
Eastern Europe, Asia and Sub-Saharan Africa where poverty, lack of economic
opportunities, gender-based discrimination, and violence contribute to the
willingness of migrants to accept offers to come to Europe. Instead of legitimate
employment or schooling, the fate of these migrants is enslavement in the form of
forced unpaid labour and other forms of exploitation, in areas such as agriculture and
domestic service, as well as sex work, begging and crime. Because Spain is only in
the initial stages of collecting reliable data, the extent of women, men and children
affected in Spain is unknown.1 According to the International Labour Organization a
conservative estimate of the number of persons globally affected at any one time is
2.5 million. 2
It may be important to define what constitutes a “victim” of human trafficking if
only for the purpose of allowing survivors to claim their rights. The label “victim”
must be used with great caution. These women have suffered a specific violation
within a specific time and in one aspect of their lives. Their being and identity is
much greater than their experience of human trafficking. Their stories will
demonstrate their courage, strength and will. All of the survivors discussed in this
paper meet the criteria for having once been victim to human trafficking as defined
by the United Nations (UN)3 and by the government of Spain, which has included the
UN’s definition in its legislation, and therefore they are entitled to a series of
guaranteed rights.
1
The Centre for Investigation Against Organized Crime (CICO) has begun to collect unified and detailed data on
human trafficking. http://www.intelpage.info/centro-de-inteligencia-contra-el-crimen-organizado.html
2
International Labour Organization, A Global Alliance against Forced Labour(Geneva, International Labour Office,
2005).
3
Article 3, paragraph (a) of the Protocol to Prevent, Suppress and Punish Trafficking in Persons defines Trafficking in
Persons as the recruitment, transportation, transfer, harbouring or receipt of persons, by means of the threat or use
of force or other forms of coercion, of abduction, of fraud, of deception, of the abuse of power or of a position of
vulnerability or of the giving or receiving of payments or benefits to achieve the consent of a person having control
over another person, for the purpose of exploitation. Exploitation shall include, at a minimum, the exploitation of
the prostitution of others or other forms of sexual exploitation, forced labour or services, slavery or practices similar
to slavery, servitude or the removal of organs.
3
5. The Spanish state has made many advances in their policies to protect human
trafficking survivors and has supported many protection and reintegration programs.
In December 2008 Spain passed its first National Plan to Combat Human Trafficking
for the Purpose of Sexual Exploitation, although it does not include other forms of
exploitation. Further, In 2010 Spain amended its Criminal Code to legally distinguish
between trafficking and illegal immigration.4 Because Spain has yet to pass a
comprehensive law to combat human trafficking, protection for human trafficking
victims is included in its Law for Foreigners. In December 2009 Spain amended Article
59 of the Law for Foreigners5, incorporating an important set of protective measures
for victims. In April 2011 the regulation6 implementing this amendment was issued.
The protection measures in Article 59bis include:
• Mechanisms for the process of identifying human trafficking victims
• Recovery and reflection period7 (30-day minimum)
• Residency/work permit for exceptional circumstances:
o In exchange for cooperation with authorities and pressing charges
against trafficker/s or
o On account of the victim’s needs or personal situation.8
Almost 2 years after this amendment passed, there are still major roadblocks in
terms of the effective implementation of these rights. This paper will shed light on
the difficulties that survivors are still facing in realising their rights, and the existing
gap between policy and what is happening on the ground.
4
Spain recognizes all types of exploitation in the amended Criminal Code.
5
Organic Law 4/2000 Jan. 11 Rights and Liberties for Foreigners in Spain and Their Social Integration
http://extranjeros.mtin.es/es/NormativaJurisprudencia/Ley_Organica_4_2000.pdf Article 59bis, P.98
6
New Immigration Regulation RD 557/2011, April 20 which regulates Organic Law 4/2000,, following its reform for
Organic Law 2/2009.
7
This is a time period for illegally present victims during which they are not to be removed from Spanish territory.
The purpose is to recover and reflect on the decision to cooperate with Spanish authorities and press charges.
8
According to article 184 of the Explanatory Report of The Council of Europe’s Convention on Action Against
Trafficking, the personal situation provision takes into account the victim’s safety, state of health, family situation
or other factors.
4
6. HOPE’S STORY: Cooperated with
authorities but excluded from
protection
Hope, a 22 year-old mother from Nigeria bravely exhibits her story.
Hope tells us that when the poor in Africa are offered an opportunity to go to
Europe, they are willing to take great risks because they face desperate situations. In
Hope’s case, she left Nigeria because she felt she had few financial options to
support her son and the rest of her family members who had become increasingly
dependent on her. She recalls her departure:
I learned a lot because [I travelled] all the way from Nigeria to Spain… I
walked by foot; I walked in the forest without shoes. I spent three days
in the desert without food or water. I travelled for two months. So for
that I’m not scared of anything. We were a lot [of people]. A lot died. I
was among the living.
Through her journey from Nigeria to Northern Africa, Hope ventured through Niger,
Algeria and Morocco by foot, motorcycle, car and bus in conditions of extreme
physical stress as well as sexual and emotional abuse. Hope eventually succeeded in
crossing the border reaching Ceuta, the Spanish enclave in Northern Africa
surrounded by Morocco. Her journey did not end there. Hope was informed that she
had to pay off a 40,000 Euro debt with sex work in order to cover the expense of her
travel. For the people who brought her to Spain, the purpose of Hope’s trip was
exploitation through debt bondage. Debt bondage is a type of enslavement included
in the UN’s definition for human trafficking, which describes a condition of slavery
arising from a pledge to pay off a debt with personal services that are not clearly
limited and defined, or do not liquidate the debt.9
After suffering from exploitation, harassment, and abuse for over 7 months as well as
having witnessed many women in her situation working as prostitutes for years
without pay, Hope eventually took the risk to file a report against her traffickers.
The next day Hope’s story was published on the front page of a local newspaper,
putting her and her family in great danger. Shortly after, her family in Nigeria
received death threats and their house was burnt down. Hope explains:
It was a lot of risk [reporting her traffickers] because they arrested one
of the traffickers, and before he went to prison...he came at night and
tried to drag me out of the room…the boy was trying to kill me…that’s
why they took me out of the camp [in Ceuta] … and they sent him back
to Nigeria.
9
Debt bondage is defined in Article 1a of the Supplementary Convention on the Abolition of Slavery, the Slave Trade,
and Institutions and Practices Similar to Slavery: http://www2.ohchr.org/english/law/slavetrade.htm
5
7. Spanish authorities gave Hope permission and the means to travel to the Spanish
Peninsula in order to protect her from her traffickers, thus validating her story. Hope
pressed charges against her traffickers, provided provable evidence, and assured the
police of her continued cooperation. However, the police closed the criminal
investigation against Hope’s traffickers and therefore did not need her assistance.
Further, the authorities did not consider her cooperation sufficient enough to grant
her a permit designated for trafficking victims who cooperate with the authorities.
Hope declares:
They trusted me because I proved it to them...I identified his photo,
they took him to jail and then sent him back to Nigeria….I was willing to
work with them [the authorities]…I don’t know why I didn’t get that
document [permit for cooperation].
Because returning to Nigeria was no longer a safe option for Hope, she applied for
asylum.10 Hope’s application was accepted for review and she was given an asylum-
seeker card, which included temporary residency and work permission until
authorities resolved her asylum case. Hope shares:
I didn’t like that paper [asylum-seeker card]…looking for jobs…
[employers would say] “What is that?”…I felt neglected…They [the
employers] didn’t know what it was. I only worked three months. I
can’t be in a country for 3 years without working.
Despite the difficulties Hope encountered, she did initiate her integration process,
received professional training and held temporary part-time employment as a
translator. However, after three difficult years of working towards integration, the
Spanish government denied her asylum.11 Hope expresses her frustration about the
denial of asylum and lack of protection from the Spanish state:
…I have renewed that paper [asylum-seeker card] for almost three
years and then they took it from me. I don’t feel any protection…They
arrested the man [one of the traffickers]…I feel like I can’t go back to
Nigeria. When I go back…the man will be looking for me... they sent
him back to Nigeria because of me. I feel so disappointed… The woman
[one of the traffickers] may see me…she’s in Madrid…and I am still
receiving threats.
Hope feels that her new status as an ‘irregular’ immigrant has taken her back many
steps in her integration process:
10
Article 1 of the Geneva Convention as amended by the 1967 Protocol provides the definition of a refugee: "A person
who owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a
particular social group or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality and is unable or, owing to such
fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country; or who, not having a nationality and being outside
the country of his former habitual residence as a result of such events, is unable or, owing to such fear, is unwilling
to return to it.."
11
According to the Spanish Commission for Refugee Assistance (CEAR)´s 2011Report on Asylum in Spain, only 260
individuals, 8.1% of the cases admitted for review, were given asylum in 2010. The motives stated for Hope´s denial
were: Motives to question the truth of her account, the alleged persecution offences do not meet the criteria for
asylum, and lack of information to support the fact that the Nigerian State could not protect her.
6
8. When I had the red paper [asylum-seeker card] it was difficult for me
to find a job, now I don’t have anything, how will I find a job? I’m
staying with my girlfriend. She gives me food. How am I going to look
for job without a document? I learned Spanish, I learned to do hair,
how to cook, how to clean but I can’t find a job …
REFLECTIONS: Protection determined by victim’s usefulness
Hope’s account demonstrates the gap in the Spanish law and the real experiences of
survivors. The police closed the investigation on Hope’s traffickers and for that
reason had no use for her further cooperation. Although this fact does not make Hope
any less of a victim of this crime, the consequences were grave as she lost her right
to a residence/work permit for cooperation. Currently there are no legal criteria to
regulate what constitutes as “cooperation with authorities.” In Hope’s case
authorities used a very strict criteria to evaluate the granting of a permit for
cooperation and her experience underscores the negative impact this has on
survivors.
Further, her asylum request was admitted for review but after the Spanish
government invested three years in Hope’s integration, they denied her asylum,
leaving her without residence and work permission. In addition, her personal
circumstances were never taken into account for the possibility of providing her with
alternative immigration relief, such as a permit based on humanitarian reasons. The
Spanish government was unable to provide protection from her traffickers, who
continue to threaten her and her family. Hope remains in Spain as an undocumented
immigrant afraid of the Spanish police but also afraid of persecution in her home
country.
Although the new legal framework obligates authorities to protect human trafficking
survivors despite their ability or willingness to assist law enforcement authorities, in
practice there are still obstacles for survivors to claim their rights unconditionally.
Although one can hear in Hope’s voice legitimate frustration with the lack of
protection provided by the Spanish state, she has been recuperating and taking her
life back. She believes that for one to succeed in life one must learn to overcome
unexpected obstacles, even tragedies declaring, “I am much stronger now.” She is
confident about her future saying, “I have to continue my studies, live a normal life
and make my own family.”
7
9. MARIA’S STORY: “They make you relive
it each day”
Maria, a strong 22 year-old middle class student from Cameroon shares her voice.
Maria had been excelling in her nursing studies at a university in her hometown in
Cameroon, when she met Carine, (name changed for security reasons) a woman from
her village who presented her with a seemingly genuine offer to complete her
university degree in Europe. Maria’s father spent his entire savings, 10,000 Euros, to
pay Carine for housing and enrolment in school for his daughter in Spain, where she
would have the opportunity to work upon the completion of her degree.
Carine obtained a false passport for Maria and they travelled together to Europe,
with Maria passing as Carine’s daughter. When Maria arrived to Spain, instead of
being sent to school, she was sent to the street to prostitute. Although she was
thinking, “…if I escape Carine can kill me if she wants to…” Maria escaped and spent
a few weeks living in the street before she built up the courage to go the police.
Maria says that originally she only wanted the police to help her go back home to
Cameroon. She declares:
…when I told the police what had happened to me, they said to me:
‘Look, you can stay here in Spain, we are going to help you but you have
to also help us find this woman [her trafficker] because many people
suffer from this same situation. If you help us find this woman you can
stay here.’
Maria continues:
…quickly after[ward], they detained Carine [the trafficker] and my
lawyer applied for my residency, but it took so long. The police kept
calling my lawyer asking if I had more information, something that
proves that Carine sent me to the street. I didn’t understand. I felt
bad, very bad. I told everything that had happened to me and they
know very well that I was telling the truth. They even arrested Carine.
I don’t think the police believed me.
Even though Maria responded to all requests from the authorities, a year passed and
she still did not have any documentation. She shares, “I couldn’t work or anything.
And without documentation they can send me back there [to Cameroon].” Maria has
repeatedly been made to explain her situation to police conducting controls to
combat illegal immigration. She explains:
8
10. The police in the street ask for your documentation, every time they
ask you, you have to tell your story again, say that I am a protected
witness, and they ask you, ‘Why? What happened to you?’ Or sometimes
they look at my paper and they ask me, ‘Why are they giving your
residency for cooperation with the police?’ and I would have to tell my
entire story again, look I am a trafficking girl, I was lured...I leave the
police feeling horrible. What you want is to forget but they make you
relive it each day.
When asked what she has risked by pressing charges and testifying against Carine,
she responds, “My life.” Maria explains that since the day she was told that she
would have to prostitute or face death, she has not felt safe anywhere, neither in
Spain nor if she were to return to Africa. Maria fears Carine or her family will
retaliate because Maria provided information to the police that led to her arrest.
Maria expresses, “…what most hurts me now is that she [Carine] is free in Spain and
she can come after me anytime…how can you live peacefully in the same place with
your pimp, who has problems with you because you got her arrested? She can kill me
if she wants.”
REFLECTIONS: Re-victimised by the authorities
Maria’s account exposes many of the difficulties in the effective implementation of
protection measures for human trafficking survivors. The need for a more human
rights approach is apparent from Maria’s encounters with authorities. When Maria
first told the police her story, they declared her a protected witness and informed
her that her right to a residence permit would be granted if she were to press
charges against her traffickers. She pressed charges and while she waited for her
application to be reviewed during a prolonged period of time, she was left with
“illegal” immigration status and uncertainty.
The lack of documentation was not only a barrier for Maria’s social and labour
integration into Spain, as she could not work, but it was also a cause for re-
victimization. She lived with the constant fear of being deported to her home
country where she feared death. To avoid detention and deportation, she had to
retell and relive her experience: stigmatized and treated once again as a victim. In
addition, she was re-victimized as the authorities continually questioned the validity
of her experience.
She was finally issued a permit a year and two months after the day the police
encouraged Maria to stay in Spain. Even with a Spanish residence permit, Maria still
does not feel protected from the persecution of her trafficker.
Celebrating her twenty-second birthday, Maria reflected on the difficulties and
successes she has had this year. She has taken important steps forward
reconstructing life experiences, obtaining a work permit and creating a social
network. In an interview she explained that she sees opportunity in her future,
“…with hope, with happiness not because I know what is going to happen to me
tomorrow. I have a life very different than everybody else, because when you have a
problem like this with somebody, you can die in any moment...” Ending her birthday
celebration, she toasted to hopes of finding work and creating her own family in
Spain.
9
11. BLESSING’S STORY: Assisting authorities
but still not feeling safe
Blessing, a brave 21 year-old woman from Nigeria shares her account of human
trafficking.
Blessing was receiving professional training and interning at a school in her
hometown, when Lera (name changed for security), a woman from her
neighbourhood offered her the opportunity to travel to Europe. The woman
explained to Blessing that she had contacts in education and that Blessing could work
as a nanny, study education and eventually open her own day-care centre in Spain.
Blessing accepted the offer because, “…I wanted to achieve my dreams! I love taking
care of little kids….this is how she tricked me.”
After a long journey from Nigeria, through Niger, Algeria and Morocco, Blessing still
remembers being smuggled in a hidden compartment of a vehicle across the border
to the Spanish territory of Ceuta. Upon arrival in this foreign place Lera [her
trafficker] told Blessing that she had to work in prostitution to pay back 35,000 Euros
for her journey. She underwent a voodoo ritual which Blessing describes, “…she took
my picture, my hair, finger nails, skin, and a stain of my menstruation blood. In case
I didn’t pay the money.” This voodoo ritual is commonly used to threaten and control
Nigerian trafficking victims. It is a type of psychological captivity in which it is
unnecessary for traffickers to keep victims under lock and key because they
sufficiently fear the consequences of breaking a voodoo vow, which may range from
going mad to infertility, or even death.
Blessing tells about severe abuse she suffered from her trafficker, “…when she found
out I was pregnant, she gave me some drugs and put a pen inside of me, until I
started to bleed...I lost my baby and I am afraid that I can’t get pregnant again.”
After two and a half years of exploitation, Blessing built up the courage to ask the
police for help. She expresses, “…I didn’t tell everything, just the important things
because I was still afraid that they were going to deport me or arrest me. I was
shaking.”
One can hear the apprehension in Blessing’s voice, underscoring the limitations she
faced because her fear understandably prohibited her from fully disclosing her story.
Despite these fears, Blessing pressed charges against Lera in the spring of 2010. She
later testified in court and provided key evidence which helped lead to Lera’s arrest.
Although Blessing had the law and the police that she assisted on her side,
bureaucratic obstacles made it difficult for Blessing to exercise her right to residence
permission. Like many Africans, Blessing did not possess any document accrediting
her identification. “They told me I need an original passport [to obtain Spanish
residency]…” Blessing explains, “…but most people in Africa don’t have
documentation. I told him [the police officer] in my country, only the rich have
passports.” In these cases, the Spanish protection system demands that individuals
obtain identifying documentation from their embassies before immigration relief can
be considered. However, many times embassies of the countries of origin do not
facilitate these procedures. As it took over a year to obtain her passport, Blessing
was trapped in this bureaucracy, which extensively prolonged her immigration relief
process. Blessing expresses, “When you don’t have a passport…its like you are lost,
like you are a refugee.”
10
12. Although, Blessing finally obtained her passport and officially presented her
residence application four months ago, she is still waiting for her residency to be
processed and thus cannot work, access most professional training programs nor walk
freely around the streets of her town:
It is not my country… I’m afraid. If the police see me they will ask for
my document. I don’t know what will happen to me. They [the police]
told me not to move around the city because, I don’t have [Spanish]
documentation…I’m still afraid…I can’t work… its difficult to leave my
home …Now I live with my boyfriend… I don’t have any friends…
Sometimes I do go to the Nigerian church and they would like to get to
know me more but I’m a little bit scared of them...They want to know
who I am, how I got here. Maybe they can get information to harm
me…. one of them knows Lera [the trafficker].
Blessing does not want to be stigmatized or judged for her experience and thus keeps
to herself. She does not feel that she can live a normal and safe life in Spain, but she
cannot go back home to Nigeria. She says, “I’m afraid of the [trafficker’s] family...so
I avoid going to my county for now… She can send people to kill me…” Lera was let
out of prison and because she suspected that Blessing was the one to blame for her
arrest, she immediately contacted both Blessing in Spain and her family in Nigeria,
threatening to kill them.
REFLECTIONS: Still waiting for her rights
Once again a survivor of human trafficking, is still waiting for her rights to be
realised. Blessing suffered a severe human rights violation took the risk of pressing
charges, testified and provided useful evidence, which helped lead to an arrest.
However because of the factors mentioned above, she is still without protection one
year and a half after reporting her case to the police. Without a residency and work
permit, she has very limited options for her integration into Spanish society, where
she cannot reside or work legally. As she waits her documentation she will depend
economically on her boyfriend and spend most of her time in her home.
Blessing is still suffering from the psychological effects caused by her experience.
She shares, “The saddest part of my life now is my head… I’m not comfortable with
my being, because I feel that I am not okay. I feel weaker.” She explains that she
would like to see a psychologist but prefers not to leave her house. Despite these
difficulties both material and emotional, Blessing declares, “I think my future is
bright.” She explains that she is still working towards her dream to take care of
children. She also wants to have children of her own and make a family. Ending the
interview she assures, “I’m strong, I’m okay, I’m an independent woman.”
11
13. CONCLUSION: A call for a more diligent
shift to a human rights approach with
more effective access to immigration
relief and other rights
Some of the women expressed why it was important and empowering to share their
stories. Maria tells us that, “…it feels good to share my story because maybe it can
help other women. If the government and others hear my story, maybe things will
change, even a little would help.” She explains that talking about her experience has
helped her to release some of her frustration and fear. Blessing says, “…if I didn’t
report [the trafficker], they would do it again and again. Somebody must put a stop
to it.” She explains that telling what happened is the only way to find a solution.
People must know this problem exists.
In addition, Hope reminds us that, “there are a lot of women…that work on the
street and pay a lot of money…” Maria adds, “A lot of people are suffering through
that process [human trafficking] right now…” Hope and Maria refer to the women
who have not been able to share their voices here, because they are currently being
exploited by their traffickers. They are women who may have interacted with
immigration and law-enforcement authorities when they crossed the Spanish boarder
with false identification, or were detained in the street because a police officer
discovered they lacked residence permission. However, no authority has either
stopped to ask the necessary questions or detected possible warning signs of
trafficking. Instead the authorities treated them as illegal immigrants, lawbreakers.
Authorities too often lack a human rights approach, greater awareness and resources,
all of which would help identify victims. The Spanish state has failed to protect these
unidentified women by not effectively implementing identification mechanisms
guaranteed by law. The women who shared their voice with us can call themselves
survivors. There are too many more who are still fighting to reach this step.
This paper gives three survivors a voice to express what is important to them and to
evaluate the effectiveness of governmental protection measures. Through their
stories, they have showed us that Spanish authorities have, in many cases, failed to
effectively implement the Spanish anti-trafficking legislation. This has re-victimized
women and created barriers for survivors wanting to realise their rights and integrate
into Spanish society. Through their case studies, we witness the material
consequences this lack of implementation has on the real lives of human trafficking
survivors.
Although each individual has a different experience, the difficulties in accessing legal
protection measures are repeated in Spain. In 2010 under Article 59bis, there was
only a single residency/work permit granted, and no reflection periods issued to
survivors represented by specialized anti-trafficking organization, Proyecto
ESPERANZA. The organization provides comprehensive support to human trafficking
survivors in Spain and assisted all of the women interviewed for this paper.12 As of
November, merely four permits and nine reflection periods were granted to clients of
12
For more information on Proyecto ESPERANZA please visit www.proyectoesperanza.org
12
14. Proyecto ESPERANZA in 2011. In addition, the organization is not aware of a single
trafficking victim who was granted asylum in 2010 and is concerned with the
systematic denial of asylum for victims of trafficking. Because the government fails
to publicise detailed data on the issuance of the above-mentioned protection
measures, Proyecto ESPERANZA has no information to suggest that its data is not
representative of the overall situation in Spain.
It is clear that there are still many difficulties in the effective implementation of the
anti-trafficking framework, specifically of article 59bis of Spain’s Law for Foreigner’s
approved in December 2009. The first barrier was a lack of an official regulation to
provide guidelines for the implementation of protection measures included in the
law. This regulation was finally passed in April of 2011. Although it minimally
improved the application of the law, it still lacks important details on how to
implement new protection measures. Just recently, on October 28, 2011 Spain
passed the Framework Protocol for the Protection of Human Trafficking Victims,
which aims to provide more specific guidelines to implement these protection
measures including, detection and identification procedures, issuance of immigration
relief, and coordination mechanisms. However, Proyecto ESPERANZA declares that
although the protocol defines many procedures that will favour greater efficiency for
applying Article 59bis, it still lacks key definitions and criteria to bring about
significant improvement for the effective implementation of protection measures.
Among other deficiencies, it fails to define “cooperation with authorities” and
“personal situation of the victim.”
The transition to the new legal framework protecting human trafficking victims has
been characterized by the slow development of legal regulation and protocol, which
still lack important details for effective implementation of the law. To speed up this
transition, the protection system needs not only effective legal tools, but also
requires increased awareness and training for authorities so they are capable of
effectively protecting victims’ rights in the new anti-trafficking framework.
It is clear that change in legislation is not sufficient if it is not combined with change
in perspectives. The protection system has started to shift away from a focus on
combating illegal immigration that had been prevailing, towards a more human rights
approach. However, this shift is evolving far too slow, especially taking into account
the impact it is having on victims and survivors of human trafficking.
13